


Triple Entendre

by QuillFeathers



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dancing, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, POV Keith (Voltron), Sparring, possibly tooth-rotting fluff, the boys being dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8449300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillFeathers/pseuds/QuillFeathers
Summary: Keith knows the phrase.But the meaning of a string of words is more than just the paper definition.Alternatively: Three situations Lance tells Keith "let's dance".





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A voice creates connection.

The day they start sparring against each other Allura barely gets the words out saying so before they're both volunteering, one way or the other.

“Finally,” Keith sighs. “Robots only simulate an actual person so well.”

“All right! Who wants to kiss the floor first?”

Pidge and Hunk groan retorts simultaneously while Keith narrows his eyes at the Blue Paladin, wondering at the plurality of the challenge. Sure Lance could probably beat Pidge if he took them down before they could form a strategy, but even Hunk could just plain out-muscle him. And Lance against Shiro in hand-to-hand combat? Keith has to bite his lip to stifle a disbelieving snigger as he automatically looks to the oldest paladin.

The look on Shiro's face as he meets Keith's gaze is one of amusement, which he would have taken as a reason to not hide his own, to bite back at Lance along with the others...if not for the fact that Allura was also fixing him and _not_ Lance with a smile and raised eyebrow. It's one of the smiles she gets when she's about to introduce them to some sort of new training exercise.

Or worse, _bonding_ exercise.

Keith's face falls as the co-leaders glance at each other while in the background the other three fall silent. “Oh come on!” He huffs in defiance, arms crossed and mouth pressed into a thin line. “I'm not dumb enough to claim I can best Shiro but we're still a better match than me and Lance!”

The latter immediately points a finger at him. “Hey! I can totally take you.”

Keith scowls when Lance jabs at his shoulder. He deliberately looks away but can faintly feel Lance's breath, knows he's leaned in close to try and get Keith to push back. So he ignores him in favor of silently pleading to the Princess and Shiro.

But Allura has her hands on her hips in a clear pose of finality and Shiro is sporting one of his 'do it for the team it will be good for you both' looks to match.

Dammit.

So he holds up a hand with his fingers splayed. “Five pins and I get to spar with Shiro tomorrow.”

“Five pins and I get him instead,” Lance scoffs beside him.

Hunk and Pidge both snicker.

“I'm flattered.” Shiro says, voice flat. “You'll learn from each other, trust me.”

“Shouldn't you guys be asking for a nap or something as a prize?” Hunk suggests.

Allura narrows her eyes. “I'd prefer it if you not treat this as a competition.”

But Keith is pretty terrible at saying no to Lance's competitions.

He is good at egging Lance on, though. So when they've made their way away from the others he purposefully makes a show of not looking prepared. Wearing a bored expression, he leaves his left arm dangling at his side and rests his right on his hip.

Lance of course pretends to stretch. He manages to look even more ridiculous by striking the stupidest and probably most well-known fighting pose of all time: standing sideways, knees slightly bent, one hand stretched out towards him.

Keith has to resist the urge to put his head in his hands. “Lance. No.”

“You probably don't even get the reference. Mr. I-live-in-a-desert,” Lance taunts. He ushers the expected 'come on' with his fingers. “Let's dance.”

Keith doesn't change his stance at all.

Lance frowns when three long seconds pass and neither of them have moved.

“Actually,” Pidge mumbles into the quiet, hand going up to push on their glasses as some of the room's attention shifts their way. “The phrase 'let's dance' comes from fencing. It's said that the two opponents look like they're dancing with each other, with how they move their feet.”

Keith taps each of his feet a few times. Lance mimics the movement, serious expression wavering.

“What is 'fencing'?” Allura asks.

Out of the corner of his eye Keith catches the change in her face; the curiosity that flashes in her eyes as she uncrosses her arms. He raises an eyebrow at Lance, who's dropped his arm but was still seemingly unwilling to actually start anything, while the Princess diverted her attention to Pidge. She really could be as bad as Coran sometimes when it came to curiosity with foreign words and customs.

“It's a sport.” Hunk offers, and Keith can see he's raised his arm as if he were holding a weapon and staring down the point at an invisible adversary. “Sort of like sword-fighting? But not with actual swords. And without the actual impaling. It's for entertainment.”

Keith turns slightly so that he's facing the others, making it look like Lance is now on the sidelines of his attention. Shiro gives him a bit of a warning look but it's worth it because he can practically hear Lance grit his teeth. The other paladin straightens up, eyes narrowed.

The Altean tilts her head. “I have never heard of dancing suggesting fighting. It is generally associated with non-violence and celebration. In some cultures asking someone to dance at a specific age or on a certain day of the year is a proposal of marriage."

“Aw,” Pidge coos. “Keith, Lance, when's the wed—”

Lance runs at him.

Keith slides his left foot forward, turns at the waist a fraction and grabs Lance's arm. He's almost impressed when Lance doesn't carry past via his own momentum and tries to pull him around instead, but he catches an ankle and topples his balance. Forces him down with one arm pinned to his side and a knee to his back.

“One,” Keith says. He's nice enough to not make Lance kiss the floor. “And I did get the reference.”

“Probably only the fencing one,” Lance grunts as he tries to twist his trapped arm away. “Let me up mullet-head.”

Round two doesn't last much longer.

Keith does in fact get in the sparring time with Shiro, too.

Rather, gets his ass kicked while being lectured on the importance of helping his teammates.

The next time they square off Lance's approach is drastically different; more determined and lacking in silly stances. A fire burns in his eyes, and Keith can certainly appreciate that—knows it's mirrored in his own when he trains, when they pick up a new distress signal, when they fight together as Voltron.

Lance still says “let's dance” before they start a session.

(Even when he steps out of the healing pod the first time and calls Keith out on going easy on him when they spar the next day.)

It becomes some silly routine...thing...before they know it.

(Even after the whole Castle of Lions turned against them ordeal when everyone is still shaken up.)

When he does finally pin Keith down one day it only makes them both work harder the next.

(Damn Shiro for being right.)

After the wormhole—after they're all separated and yet somehow find each other again but are once again shaken and exhausted in every way—the line slips from Keith's lips the first morning they are all back together.

The five of them are in the little lounge room, most of them having finished breakfast a while before. He's restless despite sleep and on edge at every noise the ship's monitors make. So he nudges Lance in the knee with a foot before standing from the couch and rolls the sentence off his tongue without a thought.

Hunk makes a choking sound that is definitely a laugh muffled into his bowl of food.

“I think we're all still way too tired to comprehend why on Earth you would want to spar right now,” Pidge blurts. “Not to mention Shiro already said we were getting a day or two off...” They give Keith a look that clearly reads 'I will kill you if we are made to train today'.

Shiro shrugs and takes a drink of whatever the heck Coran had given them all. He knows that exercising is Keith's outlet. They're alike that way. Heck Shiro had most likely already been on the deck before breakfast.

Besides, sparring with Lance, verbally or physically, was something _normal_. Something he, yes, had missed more than he would admit out loud.

After the last few days he was craving that normalcy.

Meanwhile Lance's face is stuck between surprise and disbelief: eyes a bit wide and brows bordering on knitting together like he's finding hidden meaning in the two words. Keith is about to turn and walk out of the room when the other paladin leaps up and waltzes over to loosely sling an arm over his shoulders.

“Are you admitting you missed me, buddy?” He teases, fingers tapping against his sleeve.

“Actually I just need to beat something up right now.”

Lance steps away and throws up his hands. “Firstly, of course you missed me, you all did.” He waves an accusing finger at the others before wheeling on him again. “Secondly I am in fact deeply offended that you stole my line and therefore am totally going to have to kick _your_ ass.”

Keith chuckles. Shakes his head and starts to lead the way out.

“Hold up.” Hunk interjects, brandishing the spoon in his hand. “You just didn't oppose what Lance just said, and more importantly...laughed. Clearly it's time for more sleep.”

Keith shrugs—tells himself the sudden warmth on his face is only because he knows he doesn't laugh enough.

“Yeah...and Lance must have some sort of amnesia if he can't remember how well that challenge turned out the other hundred times he issued it,” Pidge drawls.

Lance sticks his tongue out at them. Walks to the doorway and spins around to strike that ridiculous pose. Meets Keith's eyes and mouths the words.

Keith tries _so_ hard to swallow his smile.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look sparks significance.

This one was important: the planet on the verge of falling to the Galra when they'd gotten the distress signal and swooped in. Its people were humanoid in appearance, looking a lot like Alteans but with more colorful skin and bat-like wings that allowed them to glide over and navigate the deep crevices of their home. The land itself had a fair amount of green, drinkable water, and even breathable air.

It had been hard not to think of Earth. He'd felt it reverberating through them all as they'd fought.

So Keith tells himself to suck it up and be sociable as Shiro is semi-dragged away into the crowd by a pack of children, himself barely escaping via the horrible excuse of a fresh drink in his hand.

He can do the whole fighting aliens and flying robots and saving prisoners, but the diplomatic and social side of the whole Paladin package? He isn't the best at it. Sure he can handle conversations with locals and helping people rebuild...but it's the second evening of celebration and he's starting to feel crowded in.

Tonight they're in a huge field outside of what he assumed was the capital, the sun painting thick clouds shades of pink in a very Earth-like sunset. Large bonfires were being set up, centered in huge stone gazebo structures. Most everyone else was either talking or dancing in various-sized groups. The music was mostly comprised from a couple variants of wind and string instruments. The current song's steps sort of looked like square-dancing to him, but no one's calling out directions and Keith does not plan on dancing. Sneaking off to maybe talk to some elders sounds like a better idea. Or disappearing altogether for the night. He'd talked and ate too much and even helped Shiro tell the story of their final battle above the atmosphere to the gathered kids. Social obligations completed, as far as he was concerned.

He's about to down his drink (which is some sort of tangy fruit juice) when a familiar arm appears over his shoulder to snatch the cup from his hand.

“You're getting me another if you drink that,” Keith warns.

Lance steps to his side with a glint in his eyes, peering into the drink and promptly scrunching up his nose before handing it back. “I like the other kind better anyway. The blue one.”

“Predictable. You have terrible taste.”

They stand in companionable silence as another song starts, Lance snickering when a young girl pulls Shiro into a circle and tries to get him to twirl her around. Meanwhile Keith lets his eyes shift to look the other boy over.

He's not sure when exactly his heartbeat started quickening even when they weren't sparring or fighting side-by-side; doubling at laughs and shared smiles instead.

He may not be good with expressing emotions but that doesn't mean he's in denial, either.

A lot of times it seems like a bunch of cliché opposites attract nonsense.

A lot of times he still wants to punch Lance in the face.

At the moment though the Blue Paladin is beautiful with his face slightly flushed from dancing and not fighting, carefree without his armor and a soft smile on his on his face, and...stupidly endearing with his lack of shoes.

“What if you have some sort of allergic reaction to a plant?” Keith ponders with a nod to Lance's feet.

“Well they aren't blowing up like a balloon yet so I think I'm good,” The other shrugs with a wiggle of his toes. “Allura only laughed at me when she saw which totally counts as permission.”

They fall to silence again as one of the musicians on a string instrument lifts an arm, and suddenly the music drifting through the air picks up in tempo. The two circles of revelers closest to Keith and Lance break into lines and cross parallel to each other in front of them, everyone's feet crisscrossing. Hunk passes by in the back line with a huge grin on his face, waving at Lance and almost tripping in the process.

Lance waves back and appears to almost move to jump in, stilling as the lines pass by and morph back into circles in opposite positions. Instead he leans forward and looks at Keith, a conniving smirk appearing on his face. “That reminds me. Allura says you're insulting the locals by not dancing at least once.”

Keith rolls his eyes and doesn't reply, taking a pointedly long sip of the juice.

“You're being a party pooper,” Lance huffs.

“Clearly you missed my and Shiro's masterful retelling of our heroic feats.”

“But now even _he's_  dancing!”

“He was attacked by children. There was no saving him.”

Lance sputters into laughter. “You aren't going to rescue him?”

“Hmm...maybe after I finish this.” He goes to take another drink and finds his arm dragged the other direction.

Lance puts his lips to the rim and tilts Keith's wrist as he downs it. Making a sour face, he tugs the empty cup away (from Keith's limp fingers) to set it on a platform to his left. “There. You're out of excuses.”

Keith's mouth is possibly hanging open slightly as he stares for a solid breath before crossing his arms and attempting to glare.

Lance sticks out his tongue. “Come on, it'll be fun. It _has_ been a ton of fun. Shiro _and_ Allura are having fun. That's proof.” He holds out a hand. “Let's dance.”

“How many times have you asked me to dance now?” Keith tries, mind still trying to chase their normal.

The other paladin's cheeks possibly flush a bit more, but it's hard to tell in the dwindling light. “Well...you do never say no...”

Abruptly the moment feels weighted—the words carrying a coded meaning like when Keith had first said the phrase.

Lance steadily holds his gaze with a shy tilt pulling at his lips.

Keith takes his hand.

Lance is better at dancing than he is, but he's patient and slows down until he learns the steps. It's essentially the same movements repeated with some variance, at least for most of the basic songs: steps left, then right, and back, then switching places with someone across form you within the circle or line with linked arms or tight turns. A solo from the wind instruments cues faster paces, the strings determining the shift of circles to lines. When Keith gets a little winded and tries to slink off Lance drags him over to where the rest of the team is. With the five of them together they naturally turn to teasing and pushing each other whenever the music picks up, Allura and Coran laughing whenever one of them trip up.

“How can you keep track of all the alterations already? I've been doing this for hours and keep forgetting.” Hunk asks Keith when he spins by.

“Because I'm a great tutor,” Lance replies from next to him.

Keith elbows Lance in an attempt to push him into Pidge. “More like I'm a quick learner.”

Shiro proceeds to reach over Pidge's head to push Lance, which leaves Keith staring at the sky with Lance sprawled over him.

Lance lifts himself up on his knees while laughter rings out around them, and their eyes meet for the umpteenth time that night. He's wearing that shy smile again when he offers a hand and quietly says: “More like we're great partners.”

The voices of the others telling them to get up already are muffled by Keith's heart-rate tripling while they stare at each other. He can see color rising in Lance's face, and he knows there's no point in hiding the rush on his own skin.

So he smiles a shy smile and takes Lance's hand, who tugs him back into the circle across from himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea that these two dorks wouldn't have an exact "I like you" declaration.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A touch measures meaning.

Keith lets out a heavy sigh as the last of the rescued aliens were led from the room, many held up or carried by others but all in all everyone safe.

“I'll see about rigging up a crutch!” Pidge shouts as they dart around the corner after them.

“It's not broken!” He shouts back.

“Shush.” Lance says next to him.

“It's not broken, it's sprained which means I can walk on it. You're all ridiculous.”

“Don't care. I will still stuff you in a pod if you're not right here when I get back.” The Blue Paladin replies. He removes his arm from where it's wrapped around Keith's waist, pressing one of his hands to Red's front leg before ducking away.

Keith stands there for a minute before lowering himself to the ground slowly, letting himself essentially fall the last few inches to the floor with his legs stretched out in front of him.

It was a classic, really. The Galra had known they were going to lose the day so the remnants had grabbed some of the younger prisoners and holed up in a bunker to buy time. Force Voltron to split up, let their Commander get his ship to the Castle of Lions and put pressure on them there, perhaps turn the tide. It was sort of funny how they still underestimated the Paladins _and_ Allura and Coran's piloting of the ship.

What wasn't funny was Keith almost getting shot when maneuvering the youngest of the captives out of the chunk Hunk had bashed into the side of the complex. He avoided the hit—although felt the heat of the blast—but had sprained his ankle when he pushed the kid down underneath himself and his shield. Having seen first-hand the state of some of the rescued he knew it wasn't severe enough to warrant a healing pod, had argued his way to flying Red back himself. Lance had supported him in that but had blabbed to everyone that he'd needed help out of the bunker when Keith had tried to say he'd merely twisted the ankle.

Sometimes it was still weird, being so close to others and having them look out for him.

Keith glares at his right foot in accusation, embarrassed that everyone was worrying about him on top of the injured prisoners. Red is a comforting presence in his mind when it starts to throb to the beat of his heart, the last of the adrenaline rush he'd been running on slowly ebbing away.

It was hard to believe they'd all been dancing on grass together four days ago. Then again not really.

A smile twitches into life on his lips at the memory, the humming of the castle and emptiness of the room calming as well so he loops what he can remember of the music through his head and lets his eyes drift closed.

He doesn't realize he's dozing off until there's a ghost of a breath against his face, doesn't jolt only because his mind is further lost in a pair of familiar deep blue eyes inches away.

Lance however falls backwards with an undignified yelp.

Keith blinks, belatedly registering that his lips are too warm.

“Shit. Hi. I w-wasn't...” Lance stutters, ears coloring red. “...I thought you were sleeping?”

There goes his heart-rate again.

“You know...checking your breathing? Making sure you hadn't passed out from something? Since you tried to hide the extent of the foot thing?”

“Lance...”

“I thought you had been shot out there you know.” The Blue Paladin rambles, throwing his hands up and shuffling a little closer. “I thought you'd been shot and that you wouldn't be able to fly back and would lose a lot of blood before we could get out and that we'd ha—”

“Stop being cliché.” Keith cuts in.

“Cliché?”

“This. Us. One of us maybe has a near-death experience, which is like every day by the way, right after we...maybe have a major bonding moment a few days ag—.”

“Well too bad! I feel like I have to say something. Something could happen _any_ day out here. Shit, Keith. You've been driving me crazy for forever and at the celebration when we were dancing I thought my heart was going to explode.” There's more hand flailing as Lance sits down next to him, staring earnestly.

“Lance.”

“What?”

“ _Very_ cliché.”

Lance continues to stare at him, then  _really_ stares, and it's totally unacceptable that Keith has to stifle a nervous laugh or contented sigh or whatever noise threatens at the back of his throat.

“So...” The other paladin starts, putting a hand on Keith's shoulder and tugging so that they're squarely facing each other. “It's okay?”

“If it wasn't okay I would have already kicked you across the room like when we spar.”

He knows his smirk is enough of a real answer.

It's fine. More than fine.

“All right.” Lance murmurs with a grin, leaning impossibly closer and voice almost inaudible when he adds: “Let's dance.”

It's not chaste, and that's exactly how Keith imagined kissing Lance would be like—all emotion pressing forward for _more_ and giving him no chance to breathe, the last tendrils of his running-in-circles thought process dissipating under the onslaught.

But it's blissful to (finally) fall into their normalcy in this way; push and pull. Simple soft presses turning into Lance licking across his upper lip, Keith nipping back in return to chase his tongue. He answers Lance's gasp with a quiet noise of his own and then he's somehow sliding sideways and down, almost panicking at the thought of hitting the floor but he's supported by a hand between his shoulder blades and another bracing firmly on the ground. There's a fresh dose of adrenaline coursing through his veins and he must be running a fever because his skin is too hot yet he feels like he's shivering with all the energy igniting in his chest, grasping Lance's hand—which is now entangled with his above his head—tightly.

He's losing time again, but unbelievably what must be his survival instincts catch the distant sound of a panel beeping followed by the hiss of a door closing. Or maybe opening?

“Wait.” He gasps, turning his head away and grimacing when Lance leans back and nudges his injured leg. “I hope you mean dancing through life together or something because right now...my foot...Pidge is coming back anytime.”

"Wow." Lance laughs, pressing his face against Keith's shoulder and shaking into a fit of giggles. “Way to be _super_ cheesy, geez. I didn't know you were capable of such mush.”

Keith rests his head on the ground, hesitatingly raising a hand to card through brown hair, blood still thundering in his ears despite the lack of kisses. “Did I successfully ruin the moment?”

“Yes. Honestly though I expected you to shove me away when I said the thing.”

“You do know that every time you say that I have an almost irresistible urge to hide my face in embarrassment?”

It's a bit cold when Lance suddenly lifts himself up and away, Keith's heart leaping into his throat because the Blue Paladin is _beamin_ g at him. He wants to simultaneously kiss him and crawl into a hole because he's so exposed.

He goes with the first option: grabbing Lance's jacket and yanking him back to him, effectively swallowing any teasing reply he may have come up with. When they part again they're both breathing heavily, Keith having unabashedly hooked his uninjured leg around one of Lance's.

“If we're gone when Pidge comes back do you think they'd send out a search party?” Lance breathes above him, gaze a little hazy.

Keith huffs, considering his usual recklessness and how he would really like to sneak a hand under Lance's shirt. “And here I thought I'd ruined the moment.”

“I'm going to ruin the moment when I gouge my eyes out.”

Lance jerks his head up while Keith tilts his back to find Pidge in the doorway, eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

“Hi Pidge! Did you manage some sort of crutch for my boy Keith?” Lance offers in a high and anything _but_ innocent voice.

“I need to measure his height, Coran wants us to eat and then I'll finish it. I see _you_ didn't even get his boot off to wrap his ankle in the first place.”

They both look to where Pidge points, Lance's face going a bit more red when he spots the apparent wrappings partially unrolled a couple feet away.

“I, uh, got distracted?” He offers, smiling.

“Did I hear Lance refer to Keith possessively?” Another voice says from outside.

Pidge steps to the side to sweep an arm out and welcome Hunk into view. “The double entendre has finally happened, Hunk. Time to find a planet Lance can propose on.”

Lance finally rolls to the side and helps Keith stand, grinning like an idiot and staying much closer than was required.

“You totally said you wouldn't say it _that_ way.” The Yellow Paladin accuses, but he's wearing a knowing grin as he regards them both.

Lance pouts a bit and puts his hands on his hips. “You weren't here!”

“But I still know you said it!”

“Too bad, it's our thing.”

Hearing that the other two look expectantly at Keith.

He wants to maybe be offended that Lance had talked about...them...before now, wants to maybe be annoyed that they even have a thing, but he already knows it really hasn't been a secret so he just shrugs. Hunk guffaws and Pidge looks mildly surprised, but it also makes Lance blush three shades darker which is worth it.

The phrase has had a multitude of meanings for a while, anyway.

Lance's smile turns shy as the others lead the way out, and when he lifts Keith's arm around his shoulders Keith takes his hand and doesn't let go.

“Earlier...” Lance says quietly as they step forward together, “...the whole dancing-through-life thing. I like that idea.”

Keith leans against him a bit more. “You better, if it's our thing.”

(It's a piece of home within a singular voice.)

(A window into a pair of blue eyes.)

(And five fingers laced through his.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops this got fluffier?
> 
> I had fun writing these little scenes, so I hope everyone enjoyed this pile of sillyness. As always thanks for reading and for all kudos and comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me trying to be clever with the title.  
> 


End file.
